Summer Warmth
by KariTBB
Summary: NWZ. Just a little Diego & Felipe story about Felipe helping with the annual grape gathering.


Setting the clippers on the ground, Felipe rose and arched his back. He had been working in the vast vineyard for merely a couple of hours, but already his body was stiff and sore from the unaccustomed posture that came with picking grapes. He stretched his arms above his head and relished the tingling sensation that trickled down his spine. The feeling was sheer bliss.

He let his gaze wander across the quiescent, languorous landscape until it found the small copse to the South that marked the edge of Don Alejandro's land. The sun stood high above the treetops already, which meant it wasn't long until siesta anymore. Fortunately...

Grimacing, Felipe reached back and massaged the small of his back. The back pain during grape harvest was actually familiar. The nausea and headache were not.

He crouched down and duteously proceeded to cut clusters of grapes off the vines. Once again, he wished he would have remembered to bring his hat. During the torrid summer months, he rarely left the house without it, but today he had gotten up particularly early to help with the grape harvest. Still half asleep when he had set off in the morning, he had simply forgotten. Considering the inescapable blazing sunlight out here in the open field, there was no denying that this had been an immensely stupid mistake.

He worked in earnest for half an hour. Over all, he made fairly good progress, but rather than getting better, the qualmishness in his stomach seemed to worsen with every passing minute. Trying in vain to swallow down the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue, Felipe eventually paused. His nausea had become severe enough to reach a point where he was genuinely afraid to spoil the grapes by vomitting all over them.

His breathing slow and heavy, he sat down and groggily rested his head in his hands. He felt absolutely wretched. His head was swimming, not to mention awfully warm, and his blood pulsed noisily in his ears. The oddest part though was that his headache had spread down to his neck. Felipe couldn't think of any reasonable explanation for that. The curiosity provoked a pang of fear that something might be seriously wrong with him, but he brushed the idea aside. It was fine. He'd surely feel better once he could get out of this abominable heat.

He was startled out of his misery by a tiny, soft object striking his cheek. Scanning the ground next to him in bewilderment, he spotted a grape that had apparently been thrust at him. More confused than angered, he looked up to find Jorge glaring at him from the adjacent row.

"Less daydreaming, more working, boy!" the man growled. He gave Felipe a long, menacing look before he turned back to his own vine.

Felipe hid a grin and rose to his feet. Jorge was always acting so tough. His harsh tone of voice actually used to frighten Felipe, but that had only been until Felipe had helped with the grape gathering for the first time. Inexperienced and still a little child back then, Felipe had handled the cutters so clumsily that they had slipped and had left a long, deep gash in his hand. It had hurt like hell and the huge amount of blood had nearly made Felipe panic. Jorge had personally carried the crying, scared boy all the way back to the hacienda.

Felipe cautiously placed a bunch of grapes in the basket at his side so the berries wouldn't bruise. After taking Felipe – quite literally – off Jorge's hands, Diego had patiently cleaned and bandaged Felipe's wound. He hadn't scolded Felipe for crying so terribly and not even for jerking away and hitting Diego when the man had dabbed Felipe's palm with an evil-smelling, stinging liquid. Instead, he had praised Felipe for helping so much with the grape harvest and had calmly explained to him that the liquid was a form of 'alcohol' and that the bad smell would drive away invisible, little monsters that would otherwise harm Felipe. Felipe hadn't believed Diego back then – invisible, little monsters, what nonsense! He had been convinced that Diego was only trying to distract him from the fact that he had hurt him with the mean liquid. Once Diego had brought him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk though, Felipe's tears had ebbed away and he had generously forgiven Diego.

Felipe set his jaw and stoically rode out another wave of sickness. Grape harvesting was not a particularly fun task, but it was an easy job. Queasy or not, he'd fulfill his duty.

He flatly refused to acknowledge his indisposition thenceforward. While that was a fairly inelegant solution, it worked surprisingly well. Still, when the maids appeared with the lunch some time later, he had to admit that he was incredibly relieved.

He followed the other men into the shade of the cart that held the filled baskets. At the sight of the food though, he halted. While the meal María had packed them looked delicious as usual, the idea of eating didn't strike him as very inviting.

He chewed his lower lip and glanced pensively in the direction of the hacienda. It was awfully hot out here, but inside the house, it was probably cooler...

Promising to be back in time after the siesta, he excused himself and trudged back to the hacienda.

He found Diego at his desk in his study. He was busy taking notes from a book spread in front of him, but looked up and smiled when Felipe entered.

"Ah, Felipe. Done with the harvest already?"

Felipe shook his head.

"No, but I wanted to tell you that I'll go lie down a bit. Could you come get me when siesta is over if I don't wake up by myself?"

He didn't expect Diego to raise any objections, but still waited obediently until the man would give his consent. Diego didn't give his consent though. Instead, he glanced in astonishment at the little clock on the shelf above his desk.

"María sent the maids off not even half an hour ago. With the time it took them to reach the vineyard and the time it took you to come back here, you can hardly have had any lunch yet," he opposed carefully. Felipe nodded honestly.

"I'm not particularly hungry. I'll skip lunch today if that's okay."

He flashed a meek, apologetic smile at Diego and turned to leave, but Diego swiftly caught his arm and drew him back.

"Felipe?" Worry filled the man's voice. "Is everything all right?"

Felipe just nodded in reply and firmly if gently plucked Diego's fingers off his arm. When he took a new stab at leaving though, Diego held him back again, with more force this time.

"What's wrong?" he demanded to know. He wasn't yelling, but his voice had taken on a sharp edge. Felipe sighed in resignation. He wouldn't get out of this before Diego had his answers.

"Just a little headache. Nothing to worry about. I'm gonna lie down a bit."

Diego examined him intently.

"You should still eat something," he declared. "You can lie down after lunch."

Felipe shook his head again, more tentatively this time as the movement made the world spin more than he cared to admit.

"Queasy," he signed curtly. He realised that had been a mistake when Diego put his fists on his hips.

"Sick?" Diego repeated. "Didn't you just say you have 'only a headache'?"

Felipe considered joking that he hadn't, in fact, 'said' anything, but something told him that Diego wouldn't think him very funny. He casually waved the objection aside instead.

"Just... a little headache, a little sick, a little warm. Nothing serious," he lied. Before he had even finished his sentence, Diego already took a step closer and placed his hand on Felipe's forehead. Grinding his teeth, the man moved his palm to Felipe's cheeks before he cupped Felipe's chin and warily inspected Felipe's face.

"You have quite the sunburn," he observed. "Have you been working in the open sun all day?"

Felipe ducked his head.

"I forgot my hat," he conceded. "I'll be sure to take it with me after siesta."

He expected Diego to lecture him about his negligence, but Diego suddenly just seemed noticeably worried.

"Dizzy?" he asked tersely. Felipe didn't dare to lie when Diego was this serious, so he nodded truthfully.

"Did you need to vomit?"

Felipe shook his head.

"No. Just feeling sick."

"Tired?"

Felipe shrugged uncertainly.

"More like... exhausted. But that's to expect after some hours of farm work, isn't it?"

He tried to scowl at Diego, but Diego already wasn't paying him attention anymore. Seizing both of Felipe's arms and turning him around, he pushed Felipe towards the door.

"You might have a sunstroke," he announced gravely. "You need to lie down."

_That's exactly what I've been trying to do for the last couple of minutes, _Felipe thought, but he didn't have the heart to sign as much.

He let Diego escort him back to his bedroom. When they reached the door though, Felipe set his feet and forced Diego to stop.

"_Promise _you will come fetch me when siesta is over. Please? I'm afraid I might oversleep," he pleaded, abashment adding to the already bright red colour of his cheeks. Diego obviously had to smother a grin, but shook his head nonetheless.

"It's all right." He nudged Felipe's shoulder and guided him into the room. "Lay down, and don't worry about the harvest. We'll see about that tomorrow."

Felipe gave him an unhappy look.

"But I promised I'd help with the grape harvest," he protested. "It's my duty. I... I owe you and Don Alejandro everything. I need to do my bit!"

Diego slackened his pace and came to a halt. When Felipe paused as well, his eyebrows arched at Diego in surprise, Diego was wordlessly staring down at him. Before Felipe could work up the courage to ask what was wrong, Diego fetched one of the chairs from Felipe's desk and motioned for Felipe to take the other one. They had equipped Felipe's desk with two chairs long ago to facilitate the frequent lessons Diego gave Felipe.

Felipe did as he was told of course, but felt a stab of foreboding. Conversations in which Diego made sure to maintain eye level were always serious conversations.

Once Felipe had complied with his request, Diego leaned forward and loosely rested his arms on his knees. For nearly a minute, he merely studied Felipe's features.

"Do you really think that?" he wanted to know at last. Felipe wasn't entirely sure how to react to that.

"I'm not taking what you and Don Alejandro gave me for granted," he signed hesitantly. "I'm not a naïve child anymore. I know that you are too kind to turn your back on anyone in need, but even so, you could have helped me in ways that would have been less trouble for you. Instead, you took me in, accepted me into your family. I'm deeply indebted to you."

Diego knitted his eyebrows – Felipe couldn't tell if in anger or in lack of understanding.

"What ways?" the man asked calmly. Felipe averted his gaze. He didn't really want to answer that question, sensing it would only lead to an argument, anyway. Diego never liked it when Felipe brought up the fact that he was only a nobody who had been saved by Diego. But no matter how long Felipe tried to stall, Diego kept patiently waiting for him to reply. Forworn and still struggling with his upset stomach, Felipe eventually gave in.

"When I was little... I thought I had to be forever grateful to you because if it hadn't been for you and Don Alejandro, I would have been lost," he confessed. "I thought that no one else would ever have been as generous as you and that if I hadn't met you, I would have died, or at least ended up on the streets all alone."

Diego shifted his weight and seemed to reflect on this for a moment.

"And now you don't think that anymore?" he inquired. A hint of contentment resounded in his voice. Felipe eagerly shook his head, but winced and stopped the movement as the room around him began tipping. When he managed to keep his focus on Diego again, he explained,

"Since then, I've learned that there are many kind people. I think if I hadn't met you, but would have met Victoria for example instead, or Don Carlos, or even Seargent Mendoza, neither of them would have left me behind on that battlefield."

Diego nodded, apparently thoroughly pleased with Felipe's line of thoughts.

"But... Well, there's not much Victoria or Seargent Mendoza could have done for me with how little money they have, anyway, but..." Felipe wrung his hands. "You see, Don Carlos or Don Sebastian or anyone else of your father's friends, I think they would have simply put me in an orphanage and maybe donated some money for my benefit. They wouldn't have personally tended to me, let alone taken me in. You did. It's a matter of course that therefore, I do my best and work as hard as I can for you and your father."

Diego stared at him incredulously.

"Felipe, this isn't your place of work! This is your _home!_"

Felipe glowered at him, defiance glistening in his dark eyes.

"I know that. In fact, that's exactly the point! You gave me a home. What is wrong about me wanting to make up for your kindness in return?"

"You don't have to 'make up' for anything, my friend."

"That's your opinion. You can't fault me for wanting to repay you."

Diego heaved a sigh and wearily ran his thumb and forefinger over his eyes.

"Look, Felipe. There's nothing wrong with you wanting to help with the farm work," he opposed softly when he had regained his composure. "But I want you to do things because either you _want _to do them or because Father or I gave you an explicit order. Never because you think you _have_ to do them because you're afraid to lose your home otherwise."

_Oh no. _That had been a bad thing to say of Diego because that had the tears start at last.

Felipe hurried to lower his head in shame, but the dark, roundish stains that formed on his pants rendered his efforts useless.

"I..." He fidgeted uselessly for several seconds before he let out a snort of frustration and forced himself to get his emotions back under control. "I know you wouldn't throw me out if I worked less, I guess. But – why won't you understand? I'm a nobody, and I love you, and I want to repay you for everything you've done for me!"

He started up, wanted to get away from this, from these thoughts, from this headache, from these qualms, from this guilt, but Diego grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the chair.

"Felipe," he said urgently, still holding on to him. "That's exactly where you're wrong. You don't have to 'repay' us for anything. We love you, and you're part of this family."

Felipe couldn't keep himself from scoffing at that. Diego frowned and clearly waited for Felipe to explain himself, but Felipe pouted and looked away.

"Felipe?" Diego coaxed gently. When still Felipe refused to look at him, Diego crouched down and patted his knee.

"It's the simple truth," he pointed out. "We're family. Family doesn't do things in expectation of anything in return. Or do you think Father expects me to repay him for anything, even despite me not living up to his ideals?"

Felipe reluctantly turned to face Diego again.

"No. Never. He loves you," he avowed. His shoulders drooped. "But... but you still want to help him as much as possible, anyway, don't you? If you could, you would do so much for him. You just hardly have time to help him because you're busy with... _other responsibilities_."

His fingers found Diego's for a moment, but retreated so he could continue to sign.

"I know that in your eyes, I don't have to make up for anything. But in my eyes I do. It has nothing to do with being afraid to lose my home or my place in this family. I admit that's been the case when I was younger, but now... How could I be ill-mannered, or lazy, or disobedient to you when I owe you everything? How could I live with myself if I wronged you like that?"

Diego seemed ready to object again, so Felipe rose his hands in an placative manner.

"This is merely a matter of doing my best for the people I love and respect. Of... acknowledging how much you've done for me and regarding you with the same kindness. Not because I have to, because I want to. Because I love you and want to support you in whatever way I can. Because I want to make you happy. That's what families do, isn't it?"

Diego rose and put a hand on Felipe's neck, pulling him hard against his chest.

"It is," he aggreed after he had released Felipe and sat back down again. "But that shouldn't come at the expense of your health now, should it? You want to make us happy, I understand that, but how could we be happy if you work yourself sick on our behalf?"

Felipe shrugged evasively.

"I'm not a little child anymore. I can't expect you to – I don't _want_ you to hold my hand and pity me if I have some trivial little illness. I can't neglect my work just because it's _warm _outside." He jutted his chin provocatively in the direction of the vineyard. "Neither of your men do, do they?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I do hope they rest if they feel unwell," Diego retorted, unimpressed. "While some caballaeros might threaten their people with dismissal if they're too sick to work, Father would never stoop so low, and they know that."

"Of course, and that's undisputedly very generous of your father, but it still doesn't mean I'll drop everything and lie down just because I'm a little qualmish."

Leaning forward, Diego reached out and flicked his finger against Felipe's forehead.

"Be reasonable. I let you take care of... _me_ when I'm ailing, don't I?"

Despite another heavy wave of nausea, Felipe nearly had to laugh at that.

"You always tell me it's 'not so bad' when you're injured!" he called Diego's attention. "And you always go right out and fight again, even if you're seriously hurt."

Against his expectations, Diego didn't seem abashed at that but only nodded dully.

"That might be the case, but I always let you treat me, don't I?"

Felipe hated to agree, but that was the truth. He had spent too many hours in the cave attending to Diego's wounds to deny that the man was right.

"And just so you know: In most cases, my injuries truly weren't so bad _because_ I let you help me. Without your aid, a lot of situations could have ended very badly for me. What do you think would have become of me if you hadn't brought me home after Toronado threw me?"

Felipe nodded sheepishly.

"Besides, I _do_ rest when I'm injured."

Felipe gave a silent bark of baffled laughter. Now, that was a brazen lie!

"You went to the pueblo the night after that very incident! You literally interrupted your own funeral!"

"Yes, because the alcalde was going to exploit my absence. My intervention was a necessity rather than a free choice. It's, mh, a matter of risk and benefit calculation. Believe me, my boy, I would have highly preferred to stay in this warm, soft bed of mine."

His words elicited a smile from Felipe, but he still regarded Diego with dejection.

"You're my role model. Why can't I just do as you do?" he begged. To his surprise, Diego's eyes lit up with obvious amusement.

"You may, but these are completely different circumstances. There's no looming disaster to avert here. Father and I hardly run the risk of becoming impoverished if you don't help with the grape harvest, do we? If Father and I ever sink into poverty, I promise I will not stop you from earning money to keep us from starving even if you're sick."

Felipe wanted to reason against that, seeing as that was a highly hypothetical scenario, but his splitting headache made it more and more difficult to come up with valid arguments.

"Unlike you, I haven't fallen thirty feet into a canyon," he challgended hopelessly. The silence that followed felt cold and uncomfortable.

"I see." Diego leaned back and placed his fingertips against each other. "I can't convice you here, can I?"

His calmness was suspicious, but there was nothing Felipe could do about it now. Warily, he shook his head. Diego nodded sadly.

"In this case, you're grounded."

Felipe stared at him in utter disbelief. Diego was not one for punishment – he had mostly reasoned with Felipe rather than penalised him.

Diego tilted his head.

"You're disagreeing with me?" he misinterpreted Felipe's lack of reaction. "Very well. Just know that should you decide to go back to the grape harvest against my orders, you can detour to the stable on your way back and go fetch me a riding crop. Or a horsewhip – I'm not choosey. Anything I can tan your bottom with will do."

Felipe grinned. If Diego was trying to scare him, he didn't do a very good job at it. He'd never whip Felipe, he knew that. He signed an affectionate "Idiot!" at Diego.

Diego smiled a little, but not much.

"Okay, I might not have been entirely serious about that," he admitted. "But I _am_ serious about you staying in bed. Are we clear? I know you're not a little child anymore, Felipe, but you're still _my _child. I will take care of you and ensure your well-being, whether you want me to or not. So, can we finally get you to take a rest?"

When Felipe nodded in defeat, Diego fluffed up his hair.

"Then off to bed with you now."

He pointed resolutely at the bed and went to collect Felipe's night shirt. Felipe sighed, but compliantly changed and laid down. Diego fortunately did without tucking him in, but he did fetch a cloth and soaked in in the little basin of water on Felipe's night stand. Felipe considered protesting, but he felt exhausted and it didn't seem worth the fight. Without fuss, he let Diego wrap the wet cloth around his head.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the coolness emanating from the cloth. To his amazement though, the cloth was unwinded after merely a few seconds and was replaced with a new one. Frowning in confusion, he opened his eyes and found Diego drenching the first cloth again. After wringing it out, he wiped off Felipe's cheeks and neck with it, tore aside Felipe's night shirt and wiped off his chest as well. When Diego sat down again, Felipe noticed that one of the chairs had been moved to his bedside. Furthermore, in the place of the basin, a bucket and a glass with cloudy water had been set on Felipe's night stand. With horror, he realised that there had passed considerably more time than just a few seconds since he had closed his eyes. He had no memory of falling asleep.

Diego briefly laid his fingers on Felipe's wrist, then helped him to sit up and handed him the glass.

"Drink," he ordered gently when Felipe made no move. "It'll help your body recover."

Felipe wasn't entirely sure how some grayish dishwater could possibly me more useful than a normal glass of clear, fresh water, but he obeyed and emptied the glass in one draught. It was a little sour and a great deal bitter. He pulled a face in complaint, but Diego already motioned him to lie down again. When Felipe had followed the unspoken instruction, Diego sat back down and took Felipe's hand into his own. Squeezing it lightly, he ran his thumb across Felipe's fingers in absent-minded, caressing motions.

"Now. Is it so bad to let someone take care of you for once?" he teased. Felipe deliberately ignored that and closed his eyes.

Of course it was bad. Between his responsibilities as Zorro's secret associate and his endeavours to support Diego and his father in every possible way, he couldn't allow himself to waste time with something as unnecessary as resting.

Before sleep could overcome him, he made sure to squeeze back though.

_Author's notes:_

_I have a huge fanfiction project in progress that will take me years to finish, and I couldn't do without posting anything in the meantime at all. I hope you enjoyed this little story that was thus created.  
_

_A few remarks on medical aspects:_

_a) German language differentiates between "heat stroke" and "sun sting". English apparently does not. That came as a bit of a surpise, since they are two different afflictions. ("sun sting", which is the one I referred to in this story, is the milder one, though it shouldn't be taken lightly. If you ever experience a sunstroke, no matter which version, please be careful and seek out a doctor in case of doubt.) _

_b) I hadn't expected as much, but at the time of Zorro's adventures, it was already known that there were "little beasts" that could only be seen under a microscope. The finding hadn't brought forth disinfection yet (that started around 1850), but I always thought of Diego as ahead of his time._


End file.
